


Emblems & Empires: A Study in Initiative, Inexperience, and Incompetence

by MidknightMasquerade



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Characters Play Dungeons & Dragons, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Secret Santa, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidknightMasquerade/pseuds/MidknightMasquerade
Summary: Governor Aegir has declared a statewide lockdown in the hopes of withstanding an unexpected blizzard. When Byleth is left to entertain his dysfunctional band of snowed-in students, he and Edelgard decide to unite the house the only way they know how: through old-fashioned nerdiness. Can a night of skill checks, death saves, and dice jail bring together this group of otherwise-incompatible people?
Relationships: Black Eagles Students & My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 7





	Emblems & Empires: A Study in Initiative, Inexperience, and Incompetence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LettdViolet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LettdViolet/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to my Secret Santa giftee and dear friend, LettdViolet (otherwise known as Mina)! What a privilege it is to make something special for you. Knowing our mutual love of Fire Emblem and Dungeons & Dragons, I could not resist mashing up the two for you.
> 
> As requested, there will be no overt pairings present in this fic. For all you non-Minas reading, feel free to interpret relationships as you will - I left enough hints for pairings if you squint without anything overwhelmingly obvious.
> 
> Fun fact: I, unfortunately, had drafted the first three and a half chapters of this before all of my notes were lost to the abyss (no, not _that_ Abyss). Thus, it may take me more time than I had expected to complete this project. But I hope that you can, for now, appreciate the beginning of this adventure-to-be - and anticipate what's to come!

The eve of hard-won celebration had at last befallen the students of Garreg Mach University. Though many an attendee had surpassed expectation, none that year had risen quite as high as the Educational Association of Global Leadership and Emended Societies - better known as the EAGLES.

Between exam cramming and event prepping, the EAGLES had neglected to celebrate a single of their numerous victories throughout the fall semester. Charity fundraisers, statewide debates - all recorded as triumphs without the festivities to crown them. With winter break now upon them and the holidays close at hand, the students decided to end their revelrous drought. The EAGLES needed an old-fashioned party. Tonight.

But with all educational facilities closed until classes reconvened, it fell to the EAGLES advisor to host the happenings. Byleth had no reason to deny the request-turned-demand. The absence of his father left an all-consuming emptiness in its wake. Jeralt had been called away to a business conference about on-campus security (no doubt due to the undisclosed instances of identity theft throughout GMU this past semester). Alois - his apprentice-made-associate - had accompanied him, assuring Byleth that they would return brimming with newfound information.

That, of course, did not concern Byleth. The probable reality that Jeralt would return with more debt than wisdom, however, did. Tales of Jeralt and Alois’ drinking habits had seeped even into the student body. And with Manuela, the medic with less propriety than sobriety, thrown in the mix? He wagered that Jeralt would return with a hungover woman on his arm and an alcohol-evoked marriage certificate in his hand…again.

Of all his father’s cohorts, the most responsible of the bunch believed it best to stay back and assist Byleth with the stampede about to ravage his home. Aelfric fluttered about the house with an unwavering grace. A career in guidance counseling had enforced his innate tranquility, which Byleth counted as a boon, considering the multiple dishes simmering in the oven and the bins stuffed with decorations left to hang.

“We still have time,” Aelfric assured him. Years of observing Jeralt provided him with the uncanny power to read the ordinarily-intractable Byleth, too. It both unnerved and consoled his host.

Byleth yanked a still-bubbling pot of soup out of the oven. It had yet to steam. “Not enough of it.”

Had Aelfric shared any of Byleth’s concerns, his languid movement through the kitchen did little to demonstrate it. He scavenged about in the cabinets overhead until he discovered a vase to fill in the sink. The utmost serenity shrouding his presence parted so that an unmistakable mischief might peek through. “Do you know what your mother would say when Jeralt thought to rush the world?”

Byleth knew the motto well, loathe though he be to admit it now. “’Best to stop and smell the roses.’”

“You even sound like her,” Aelfric said. He shuffled through the bag hanging from his shoulder. “I may not have roses, but I believe this will do just as well.” As his hand withdrew from within, Aelfric clutched a bouquet of Valerians.

_Mother’s favorite._

Aelfric tucked the flowers into the now-full vase. His hands slid each stem into place as though he were handling precious stones. “You’re an Eisner, through and through. Though, if I were you, I’d be more like your mother - Sitri knew better than to waste precious time worrying when you could spent it with people who, like these flowers, won’t last forever.”

Before Byleth could assemble a reply, the doorbell rang out in interruption.

Aelfric dismissed him with a wave. “Go. Be with your kids. I’ll man the kitchen.”

Byleth nodded, speeding towards the entryway with an unspoken prayer of thanks to whatever divine intervention allowed him to escape that conversation. Even the unexpected force of the outside winds from the opened door seemed a welcome change of pace.

On the other side of the doorway stood Edelgard, a bakery box in hand. Ever the overachiever, she had arrived twenty minutes prior to the meeting time. _No different at home than in class, I see._ While the black stockings and red overcoat had become a common outfit throughout the winter, her hair hung in a ponytail to the side. It made her look uncharacteristically young. Had the wind not blown it into an unsightly heap, it would have framed her face well.

“Happy holidays, my teacher.” Edelgard’s emergent smile offset her stoic tone. “Although I suppose it’s too soon to say so just yet.”

“Twenty minutes too soon,” the figure looming above her muttered. Hubert, her eternal shadow, hovered overtop of Edelgard as a weeping willow would haunt a river. One would find it difficult to locate him, however, buried as he was beneath a litany of scarves. Only a set of narrowed eyes showed any semblance of humanity between the copious layers and coiffed hair.

Byleth swore the rosiness of Edelgard’s cheek deepened. “Really, Hubert, our teacher has opened his home to us. The least we can do is help him prepare it before the others arrive.”

“Yes,” Hubert drawled, “that’s why you rushed us.”

Edelgard hurried inside, forgoing the anticipation of an invitation in favor of escaping Hubert’s torture. Said tormenter slipped inside behind her. The rumble of a well-won chuckle echoed out from within the wall of fabric.

“Hubert’s unwelcome jokes aside,” Edelgard continued, undaunted, “I do hope you’ve saved some tasks for us.” She hoisted off the jacket that hid a white turtleneck underneath. Not even a celebration could cause Edelgard to dress down.

Byleth collected her clothing. “You’re not getting graded, Edelgard. It’s a party.”

“That’s no excuse for laziness.”

“Tell that to Linhardt.” Byleth knew that, when her obstinance arose, Edelgard refused to budge. Better to submit now and save himself the headache. “Ask Aelfric if he needs help. I abandoned him for you.”

Hubert passed Byleth his peacoat, the black cloth giving way to a deep red sweater underneath, and hoisted his collection of scarves on top of the quickly-growing pile. “A wise choice.”

By the time he hung their clothes in the upstairs closet, Byleth returned to discover Edelgard balanced atop a stooping Hubert. She wrapped strands of golden garland around the otherwise-bare tree with no regard to her friend-turned-footstool. No doubt she took pride in standing taller than the rest of the world. _For once._

“Aelfric had no need of us, so I took it upon myself to decorate instead.” Edelgard displayed no proficiency in design, much to Byleth’s dismay, but she could fare no worse than him. At least the garland stayed on the tree. “Your decorations are quite…diverse,” she remarked with a careful cordiality.

True, Byleth had gone to great lengths in order to accommodate each of his students. Jeralt had raised him as a Christmas kid, but observing the EAGLES throughout the weeks beforehand indicated that he was almost alone in that tradition. Petra schooled Dorothea in the seven principals of Kwanzaa, Linhardt spun dreidels in a vain attempt to stay awake during exam week, and Hubert did naught but resolve to shut Ferdinand up once and for all every new year. Honoring each of their beliefs had left his house a mess of half-waxed menorahs and multicolored candles.

 _Too much?_ “…maybe I do need your help.”

The trio hurried to clutter every corner with whatever remained in the Eisner storage containers. Despite their efforts, beautification could not rival the culinary work done one room over. Before long, the familiar aroma of apple pie drifted into the living room. All three ceased their operation to relish the scent.

“That reminds me: I brought sweet buns from the bakery,” Edelgard said, gesturing to a waylaid box on the dining table, “though I fear they may pale in comparison to Aelfric’s cooking.”

“You weren’t required to cater. Or decorate,” Byleth reminded her. Martreatz Eatery charged a hefty sum for their sweets, but Edelgard refused to deliver a lesser product - no matter the price tag. Hubert, on the other hand, had brought naught but a bag of his personal favorite coffee beans. He insisted that Byleth’s instant coffee was “bland” and a “slight against mankind”. Byleth did not disagree, but it proved effective at keeping both his wallet thick and his patience thin. “You are, however, required to relax. You’ve accomplished plenty this year.”

Edelgard’s peaceful facade twisted into a grimace, though whether because of Byleth’s comment or her own inability to unknot the fairy lights was anyone’s guess. “Plenty, yes. But not enough.”

“Enough to dethrone Dimitri,” Hubert noted with unabashed satisfaction. He had been promoted from footstool to moral support somewhere between garland hanging and disposing of Minion-themed ornaments. “The three-time king of charity unseated by Edelgard.”

“By all the EAGLES.”

“By all the EAGLES,” Hubert amended, “but mostly you.”

Had Byleth not expected such antics, he would have bothered rolling his eyes. “Regardless of participation, even the university president acknowledged our society as the most prominent on campus. The country, too, has taken notice. What bothers you about it?”

Edelgard plucked with absent-minded frustration at the cord in hand - a nervous habit she had yet to shake. _At least she spared her nails._ “Our accomplishments came from personal strengths. Had we worked together, our impact could have doubled. Tripled, perhaps.” Another pull caused the lights to flicker. “If we - if I - do not unite the EAGLES, then our efforts will end in vain. Be that as it may, finding a means of encouraging teamwork, testing strategies, and engaging in complex problem solving without expending resources is…”

A knock at the door discontinued their conversation. Dorothea’s singsong greeting behind the closed threshold ruined the mystery of who had arrived. With her and Petra now occupying the house, Edelgard’s internal dilemma would remain unsolved. For now.

Their fellow EAGLES piled on in soon after: Caspar, decked head-to-toe in a polar bear onesie; Linhardt, already half-asleep on his personal pillow; Bernadetta, whose footie pajamas matched those of her teddy bear’s; Ferdinand, arms full of peppermint tea that would “prove to Hubert what the superior winter beverage is”; Monica, who was all too disappointed to learn Jeralt wasn’t home (for a reason Byleth did not want to know); and Flayn, whose homemade looked sweet but tasted sour.

Each person fell into a comfortable, familiar rhythm with the others present. Dorothea performed a heart-wrenching rendition of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, Bernadetta mistook Hubert for the Ghost of Christmas Past, and Monica stabbed Caspar with a butter knife to snag the first slice of turkey. Halfway through whatever Hallmark movie Flayn deigned would disgrace their television set, the broadcast cut to an emergency announcement.

Anna Ernest, their local news anchor, stood in the aftermath of a makeshift press conference. Pink hair whipped about with untamed fury at the behest of ceaseless winds. “Get this: due to the unexpected snowstorm, Governor Aegir has announced a statewide lockdown lasting until tomorrow at dawn!”

For a moment, the room drowned in silence. And then, it erupted into chaos.

“My date will not wait until morning!” Dorothea dropped her karaoke mic, hopped off the tabletop, and marched outside. Her departure lasted but a moment before she returned, dripping with snow. “On second thought? Ingrid can reschedule.”

Petra hurried her over to the bathroom, wrapping a blanket around her for warmth. Byleth chose not to mention the sleigh bell caught on her shoe.

Bernadetta, safe and sound inside, shivered twice as much as Dorothea. “Does that mean…I can’t get back to my room!?” The sudden force with which she squeezed her teddy bear had one googly eye about to bust. “Oh, Bernie, you knew you shouldn’t have come!”

“None of us would have,” Monica added, “if Ferdinand gave us a heads up.”

All eyes turned towards the man in question. Ferdinand held his white-gloved hands up in defense. “Wait a moment! I knew no more of this than any of you. If my father planned this, he never mentioned it to me.”

“Fathers do love their secrets,” Flayn added without care for context. “My brother believed the weather could - as Sylvain would say - ‘flipflop’. Perhaps Governor Aegir did not wish to make a call before knowing more?”

“That must be it!” Ferdinand gripped the lifeline offered with desperate glee. “Did we not all come here to spend time with one another? This only ushers us towards that goal!” Eyes shining, he turned towards Byleth. “Professor, allow me to distribute extra bedding to everyone. It is only proper, since I unwittingly inconvenienced you.”

Byleth gave him a measured look over the rim of his mug. “Upstairs. Second door to the right. Don’t go into my room - I will know and I will fail you.” He took a sip of coffee and almost spat. How anyone could choke down a whole cup of this poison was beyond him. _This is_ his _fault._ “Take Hubert.”

Without need of convincing, Ferdinand grabbed a petulant - and undoubtedly vengeful - Hubert by the arm and all but dragged him up the stairwell.

Murmurs of uncertainty circulated the room as everyone moved to claim their territory for the night. 

“Professor?” Petra broke through the hushed grumbling, voice electrified with unexpected giddiness. “I have never been to a snooze fest before! Will we be in need of the entertaining?”

Dorothea, already unfastening her friend’s braid, said, “Slumber party, dear. But if we’re talking entertainment, I’m down for Truth or Dare. It’s about time we weasel out who Edie has a crush on.”

Edelgard, whose face burnt as red as her wine, cast a dangerous glare in Dorothea’s direction. Even when Dorothea’s laughter doused Edelgard’s rage, she refused to meet Byleth’s gaze. Her drink had become of the utmost interest to her.

“Nobody cares about that!” Caspar leapt down from his perch atop the sofa back and pumped his fists into the sky. “Everyone knows the best way to stay awake is to wrestle! Come on, Bernadetta. Show me what you got!”

His summoned opponent squeaked, chucking her stuffed animal at him as a substitute. “Why can’t we all play something quiet? You know, like, Hide and Seek.”

“Because the last time we tried that,” Edelgard said, a hint of nostalgia dulling the edge of her words, “you ran back to your dorm room. Alone. In the dark. With my car keys.”

Bernadetta provided no further protest.

“It would seem we cannot provide a solution on our own,” Flayn lamented. The frown that had taken up residence on her face had widened her eyes to saucers. How many times had those puppy dog eyes worked to appease Seteth? And now, she aimed them at Byleth. “Surely you must know what to do, Professor!”

All those present awaited an answer Byleth did not know. He could instruct a class full of kids without issue. But amusing ones trapped inside his home? That seemed a losing game, no matter how he cut it.

 _Wait._ “A game…”

“A game, huh? Whatever it is,” Caspar shouted, “I’m taking you all down!”

Linhardt appraised him with a raised brow. “Have you ever even played a game? I can’t remember a time in our entire childhood when you would sit still enough to endure one…”

“Who sits down during a game?” Caspar appeared altogether offended by the notion. “If you stop moving, you lose!”

“I don’t suppose you expect us to circle the board all night.”

“Who brings a board game outside?”

Everyone, in unison, groaned.

“Go outdoors all you like,” Monica interjected, “if you want to freeze.”

Aelfric stepped forward, raising his hand with a sheepish patience. How long had he been awaiting his turn from the shadows? “If I may? I believe there is a way to benefit all parties here.” He gestured towards Byleth. “Would you follow me to the basement, Professor? I could use the help carrying up the supplies.”

What Aelfric could know of hidden in his own home, Byleth knew not. But, as he knew no other alternative, he would welcome this apparent salvation with unquestioned gratitude. Byleth led the way downstairs, leaving the kids to their own, undoubtedly destructive, devices in his absence. _I can only hope they spare the carpet. Jeralt would skin me alive otherwise._

Underground in the Eisner household held little of interest. Neither of its inhabitants cared much for cleanliness, and thus, the various boxes and bins had been left in haphazard disarray. The only highlight to mention came from the ability to hear those above without their knowledge. Case in point: Hubert and Ferdinand, apparently returning from their trip upstairs, now argued over the fabric of the perfect sheet. Their debates alone could have kept the lot of them entertained all night long, if they did not murder one another first. _Or make out. I can never tell with those two._

Aelfric, however, moved undeterred through the clutter until he came to one container on a high shelf. “Here we are,” he said, sliding it off with delicate ease. Once down, he popped off the lid. Both he and Byleth peered inside. “Just as I thought: the solution to our problems.”

Figurines and folding screens covered the surface. The true treasures, however, sat buried beneath the initial layer of litter. Byleth reached in, hand consumed by miniature swords and character sheets, until he could yank out a manual. _Emblems & Empires_. Dented corners and stained pages did little to mar its functionality, or its sentimentality.

“How did you know about this?” Byleth asked.

“When your father heard I would be keeping you company, he suggested we play a game - ‘to unwind’.” Aelfric hummed in bemusement. “Apparently, he has forgotten the sort of GM I am.”

“And what sort of GM is that, exactly?”

Aelfric grinned with predatory confidence. “An exciting one.” He piled every book and binder he could into a precarious tower. “I don’t suppose Jeralt ever mentioned it to you, but we used to play quite a lot. Not just us, mind you. Your mother joined us, before she joined the stars, and Alois, Manuela, even President Seiros.” Aelfric passed the stack Byleth had assumed he meant to carry himself right into Byleth’s hands. “How long has it been since you and your father last played?”

 _Too long,_ Byleth decided. Jeralt treated him to another round of adventure after every exam week, back when he had enrolled in college instead of taught at it. Their quests - and their time - together had dwindled since graduation until Byleth had all but forgotten that those books had survived down here. “Two years. Maybe more? Can’t remember.”

Aelfric nodded. “Then I believe it’s high time we refreshed your memory.”

As both returned upstairs, the EAGLES had - as presumed - did little to better matters. Most argued. Some hid. Linhardt slept. None helped.

Edelgard, gritting her teeth in time with every whack of an airborne pillow, remembered to breathe only upon seeing Byleth again. “You’ve returned! And not a moment too soon. I feared they would destroy the whole house, given the time.” She stomped her heel against the ground. “EAGLES, at attention!”

No one but Hubert even noticed. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers sliding across his phone, and fired off a message. Within moments, everyone - Aelfric excluded - had a cell in hand and a message on-screen: _listen to Edelgard or I tell Rhea what really happened at last year’s orientation._

The room fell into obedient silence.

“Thank you, Hubert,” Edelgard said, unfazed by the threat. “There will be no need for further brainstorming - our teacher has found a solution.” She turned towards him, eyes expectant. Hopeful.

Byleth could only pray not to dash her hope. He held up the Player’s Handbook for all to see and announced, “we’re going to play Emblems & Empires.”

Be it in awe, in horror or in judgment, no one made a peep until Dorothea leaned forward to squint at the text. “I didn’t realize you were such a nerd, Professor.”

“Dorothea,” Ferdinand admonished, “there is no shame in having a hobby! Besides, a game such as this has a wide breadth of lore to digest. If anything, it goes to show our dear Professor’s intellect!”

“And his wallet,” she mused, sizing up the collection of items they had hauled upstairs. “Seems geeks need deep pockets.”

“It’s no serious expense if one just budgets.”

Dorothea turned her narrowed eyes at Ferdinand. “You calling me broke?”

As Ferdinand attempted to crawl out of his self-made grave, Bernadetta piped up in protest instead. “Will we all be expected to play? Or can some of us observe…in silence…from afar?”

“A group this size is unconventional,” Aelfric admitted, “but I can accommodate as many as needed. If you fear the challenge of roleplaying, rest assured that, with this many players, you need only contribute when - and if - you feel comfortable.”

Bernadetta nodded, appeased.

Petra raised her hand, the habits of educational etiquette still lingering outside the classroom. “Will we be having help to learn? I am lacking in the experience.” Rare embarrassment furrowed her brow. 

Byleth could only imagine the added difficulty of learning a complicated game in a foreign language. Of all those who would attempt doing so, Petra would succeed - and then some. “That’s why Aelfric’s here. He’ll guide us through the game. Make sure everything runs smoothly.”

That glimpse of insecurity subsided in light of a willing grin. “Then I will be playing the board!”

“Even with an experienced player,” Lindhardt said, not bothering to open his eyes, “learning a game in one night is no small feat. Let alone executing it.”

“Have we not faced worse?” Edelgard faced each of them, defiant. “This year alone, we have debated long-standing champions of supposed truth, led towns in protest against social injustice, and untangled a web of identity theft threatening our own school. Yet you would buckle at a board game?”

Linhardt sighed. “Fine, fine. I suppose you have a point.”

“Then I believe that settles it,” Edelgard said. “EAGLES, are you with me?”

A clamor of agreement arose, with Dorothea singing her concession. Caspar, however, would have none of it. “No, no. Eagles don’t sing! They, uh, you know…” Caspar let out a caw akin to a chicken being roasted alive. “Do that.”

“Actually, Caspar,” Petra interjected, “an eagle would be sounding more like–”

Before she could finish her sentence, a hyperrealistic screech pierced the room. All heads whipped towards it source - Monica. “Like that, right?”

Petra nodded in vehement agreement. “I did not realize you were so talented with impersonations!”

Byleth decided not to point out the Youtube video of an eagle pulled up on Monica’s phone. _I have to keep an eye on that one._

Beside him, Edelgard heaved a sigh. “Well, it wouldn’t be us without a distraction to break up the rallying cry.” Nonetheless, a smile overcame her feigned befuddlement. “I hope you are prepared to tame us, Aelfric.”

“I enjoy the challenge.” Aelfric leaned overtop of the dining table, arms spread to beckon everyone around it. “Best we let the game begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter: the chaos of character creation begins. Does anyone have predictions as to what the Black Eagles could or should be? Leave your guesses in the comments! My choices are already finalized, so no need to worry about influencing my thoughts, but I'd love to hear yours.


End file.
